Trick or Treat
by 427-67Impala
Summary: Dean hates Halloween - except for the candy. Sam's not fond of it either, but he just wants them to make some happy Halloween memories. Even if he has to tie Dean up to make it happen! Porn with a little plot, and lots of Wincest - dominant!Sam, bottom!Dean - plus a tiny bit of language. But: top!Sam! :D


_Title:_ Trick or Treat  
_Author:_ 427-67Impala  
_Rating:_ M  
_Warnings:_ Explicit Wincest, established relationship, dominant!Sam, bottom!Dean, rimming, *tiny* bit of language  
_Word count:_ 9,006  
_Setting:_ Season 2

_Summary:_ Dean hates Halloween (except for the candy). Sam's not fond of it either, but he just wants them to make some happy Halloween memories. Even if he has to tie Dean up to make it happen.

_A/N: _*gets up off the floor in the dark corner, comes into the light*  
This might've been done and ready for posting on Halloween, but I was foiled by GISHWHES. Blame Misha for making me build a trebuchet.  
*goes back to the shadows of the corner, sits down, continues rocking gently back and forth*

As we know, Sam and Dean belong to Kripke & co. - I'm just borrowing their toys...

* * *

_Albany, Oregon  
__Halloween night, 2006_

"Don't those kids know this is a motel?" Dean complained, as Sam shut the squeaky door on another happy Twihard and a kid doing a bad impersonation of Casper.

"They're staying down the hall, Dean. Where else are they going to go?" Sam asked, pointedly. Dean just grumbled unintelligibly under his breath, eyes fixed on the TV. He hated Halloween. Especially _this_ Halloween, which was frustratingly quiet on the monster front.

All Hallows' Eve being the monster-friendly holiday that it was, the Winchesters usually had a pile of cases to distract them. But this year there was nothing within about 300 miles, so they were cooling their heels in their Oregon motel room while they waited for something to rear its ugly head a little closer than that revenant in Wisconsin. Dean had been quite prepared to _go_ to Wisconsin - screw the fuel bill, and the FBI - but much to his chagrin, Bobby was already in Minnesota and he had a handle on whatever evil was happening in the Great Lakes area.

So, bereft of monsters to fight and recently installed as one of America's Most Wanted, Dean was spending this Halloween night curled up on the motel room couch with a bucket of candy (he was enjoying _that_ just fine), watching an old monster movie and grunting in annoyance at Sam when he stole the occasional handful of confectionery to give to the odd trick-or-treater.

"Nobody ever gave _us _anything when we went trick or treating in these crappy motels. I'm just righting some wrongs here." Sam went back to sit at the yellow laminate table by the kitchenette where the laptop was whirring away happily.

He was scouring the surrounding states for anything that even smelled like it could possibly maybe turn into something like a case, because if he had to put up with Dean's Halloween sour grapes for much longer, he might just do a Michael Myers and put them both out of Dean's misery. Being away at Stanford, he'd forgotten how pissy his big brother got around the end of October.

"We went trick or treating, like, twice. And both times I only took you because we were stuck in those hellholes while Dad was off hunting - _I_ wasn't getting any candy anyway!" Dean shot back. Not one to let the truth get in the way of a good argument, he was conveniently forgetting that their trick or treating was a team effort and Sam always gave him his cut of the take. Minus the liquorice.

"Is that why you're sitting there with a half-empty bucket of processed sugar in your lap, watching movies on a Friday night like you're frigging Bridget Jones?" Sam asked, and punched the_ Enter_ key harder than he probably really needed to.

Dean turned to look at him over his shoulder. "Do you _want_ some candy, Sam?" he asked darkly.

"Not particularly."

"Then shut your pie hole before I come over there and shove the rest of it down your throat." Dean turned back to the TV, tossing another sweet into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

"I am not Bridget fucking Jones," Dean grumbled to himself, pawing around inside the candy bucket some more before he wrinkled his nose and pulled something out between two fingers: a tube of liquid sour candy. Sam loved sour candy, but Dean didn't share his enthusiasm. He liked his sugar to be… well, you know, _swe__et_.

He looked from the candy up to Sam, still sitting in front of the laptop. After a second's consideration as to whether the little punk actually _deserved _it, he wordlessly threw it at his baby brother. Not _to _him, _at _him.

Sam saw it coming out of the corner of his eye and caught it before it hit him in the nose - barely - and when he opened his hand and saw what it was, a smile touched the corner of his mouth. Dean had tossed him a tube of Warheads Double Drops. There were two flavours side-by-side in the one package: Kermit-coloured 'Green Apple' in one chamber, next to neon pink 'Watermelon' in the other, and Sam's mouth watered just looking at them.

"You know this is the tastiest thing _in_ that bucket, right?" Sam asked, tearing the plastic seal off the tube.

"You're welcome, then," Dean replied, without even turning around. He could hear the smile in Sam's voice, and it make him smile a little too - but he wasn't about to show Sam that.

"If I want sour, I'll do tequila shots. Like a grown-up," he went on, opening up a little mini-bag of jelly beans and emptying them into his mouth all in one hit. Before he could chew them up and continue his anti-Warheads rant, he was interrupted by another knock at the door and a chorus of "trick or treat!" from outside.

Sam got up to steal another handful of candy, but the older Winchester was quicker - he shoved the whole bucket into his open jacket, pulling the leather over it like a lid before Sam could get his hand in.

"Really, Dean? You're going to deprive those poor kids of their candy because you're a Halloween scrooge?" Sam asked, standing next to the couch and frowning down at Dean with his arms folded.

"I am not," Dean protested, through his mouthful of half-chewed confectionery. He swallowed the lot with only a little difficulty.

"You totally are, dude. Except your ghosts won't come in nightcaps, they'll be wearing witches' hats and zombie masks."

"Witches aren't funny, Sam," Dean told him, all traces of a smile gone. He didn't see the humour here. He had his fair share of ghosts already - the real kind that didn't need costumes to be scary.

"Is that what pisses you off so much about Halloween? That people make fun of all the monsters that try to eat our faces every week?" Sam went over to the door and checked the hallway through the grimy peephole - it was empty. The trick-or-treaters had given up and moved on.

"_They're_ not funny either." Dean sat up, setting the candy bucket down on the cheap pine coffee table. "And yeah, that pisses me off! These things are real, and they're dangerous, and every Halloween there's little Johnnie and Susie running around pretending to_ be_ them." He sighed, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. Halloween was a lot less fun when you'd seen the real faces of these things people were dressing their kids up as.

"That's because Johnnie and Susie are just trying to have fun, Dean. You should try it." Sam sat back down in his chair with a sigh of his own and drained his beer. That sour candy was next on his to-do list.

"You know, _you_ shouldn't be thrilled about Halloween either. Are you telling me it doesn't get to you when you see people dressed as werewolves? With the tattered clothes and the teeth and the eyes?" Dean asked, turning again to look pointedly at Sam. The younger Winchester visibly flinched as painful, sharp-edged memories of Madison came flooding back, but Dean kept pressing.

"And I turned up to get you from Stanford on Halloween night last year. That was the last time you saw Jessica, right?" Dean knew even before the words finished coming out of his mouth that he shouldn't have said that last part.

Sam stiffened and turned his gaze away, pretending to look at the laptop. Madison was a sore spot, but even a year later the loss of Jess was still a raw wound - Dean had just hit him right where it hurt the most.

"Sammy-" Dean winced and started to apologise, but Sam cut him off.

"No, you're right. If anyone should hate Halloween, it's me," he said, without looking up. "But I'm doing my best to… _deal_ with Madison, and I know Jess loved Halloween. Our last night together, she made me go to a costume party." Sam took a long breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. He could still picture her, happy and gorgeous, dancing in that nurse's outfit.

Sam knew Jess had only dragged him to that stupid party because she didn't know what he'd been doing all his life, and he couldn't exactly tell her _why_ he didn't want to go and spend the night in a room full of make-believe monsters. Not the real reason. But Jess had a way of making him forget that stuff - that was one of the things he loved about her - and he had some good memories from that night. One last hurrah of normality before his life imploded around him.

Sam lifted his head briefly to glare at his big brother. He knew Dean hadn't meant to hurt him, but that didn't mean it wasn't fucking painful. "So, yeah, I don't really love Halloween, but I at least try not to be miserable and spend it on the couch eating buckets of candy and watching frigging B-grade horror movies."

The older Winchester looked away rather than meet Sam's eyes. He couldn't help it. Taunting him with Jess like that was a cheap shot and Dean knew it.

Before either Winchester could say anything further, the moment was interrupted by more knocking at the door - this time, though, Sam didn't move from the table. When Dean looked up at him he was just sitting there, staring pensively through the screen of the laptop.

"Are you going to get that…?" Dean asked, and offered up the candy bucket like a sugary olive branch.

"Dean…" Sam sighed, suddenly - and understandably - unenthusiastic.

"No, really." Dean shook the bucket a little, making the wrappers rustle invitingly. "Make some happy Halloween memories, okay?"

Sam considered it for a second, then heaved a sigh and hauled himself up out of the chair. He gave out a couple of handfuls of candy to a fairly convincing zombie and a couple of fairies, and Dean was pleased to see he looked a little happier when he shut the door.

"I'm sorry Sammy, " he said, chewing on the contents of a mini bag of Skittles as he watched Sam turn the lock on the door and replace the brass chain. "I didn't mean to press those buttons, man, it just kinda _came out_…"

Sam waved one hand dismissively. "I know." He stole a small bag of sour worms from the candy bucket and dropped down next to Dean on the worn navy blue couch. He toyed with the bag, eyes downcast, but didn't actually open it.

Dean watched him, brow furrowed. He wasn't good at this touchy-feely chick-flick crap. He loved his baby brother - his _boyfriend_ - more than life itself, but sometimes it was like dating girls all over again.

He couldn't think of another response, so he leaned over and gave Sam a soft, fleeting kiss on the cheek. "I think we should make some happy Halloween memories of our own," he whispered suggestively.

Sam just sighed noncommittally, obviously not thrilled by the idea. In all honesty, he had the same thought earlier - but that was before Dean had killed the mood by opening up all those old wounds. And anyway, even if Sam _did_ feel like it (just a little), Dean didn't _deserve_ it.

Dean frowned briefly, then snaked the packet of sour worms, opened it and threw one into his mouth. He chewed a couple of times then pulled an overdramatic face like he was sucking on a lemon. "Ugh. I don't know what you see in these things, Sam." He pulled out another one and put it between his teeth, holding it there so half of it stuck out between his lips. "Wannit?" he asked, around the worm.

Sam just looked back at him, unmoved. He loved those silky, marshmallow-soft lips, and the thought of swapping candy kisses with Dean was tempting, but he resisted. Dean wasn't getting any metaphorical sugar tonight, considering how much of an ass he'd been just now.

"Fine, _Samantha_," Dean swallowed the worm whole and tossed the packet into Sam's lap, "but you were the one that suggested I should have some fun." He got up and went over to his bag, discarded on the floor beside their queen-size bed on the back wall of the room. He wanted to get some clean clothes so he could go and have a shower, where he could get a little privacy for himself and his right hand. Just because Sam had shot him down didn't mean Dean was going to go to bed unsatisfied.

Sam stayed where he was on the couch and listened to Dean unzip his duffel and start rifling roughly through it, muttering to himself under his breath. He turned to watch, draping his right arm over the back of the couch. He wasn't all that concerned about how much his big brother enjoyed Halloween - he realised long ago that was a lost cause. Dean was only 27, but already almost as cynical and jaded as their father. Which was saying something.

Sam had given up trying to get Dean to enjoy Halloween back when he was 18, and had used his birthday present - a shiny new stainless steel Colt semi-automatic - to 'carve' a pumpkin at twenty paces. Dean was such a good shot that the two clips worth of bullet holes lined up to form a smiley face, but the dot matrix jack o' lantern wasn't exactly what Sam had been going for. It was then that he decided Dean just didn't have the Halloween spirit.

It wasn't until Dean straightened up and tossed a clean tee and some sweatpants onto the bed that Sam noticed he'd been watching his ass the whole time. He turned back towards the TV, trying to remind himself that he was pissed at his insensitive dick of a brother -_ boyfriend_, whatever - and no amount of admiration of that firm, round, perfect backside was going to change that.

He stared at the candy bucket Dean had left on the coffee table instead, listening to the sigh of leather as the older Winchester shrugged out of his jacket. Sam knew that meant Dean was now standing there in only that black Zeppelin t-shirt and faded jeans. The shirt was old and kind of tight across the muscles of his back and shoulders, and the well-worn Levis he had on today did amazing things for his already-amazing rear end…

But Sam was determined that he wasn't _going_ to look.

Because Dean had been a total asshole not two minutes earlier.

He'd been a total asshole, and he didn't _deserve _to make any happy Halloween memories...

Sam turned around just in time to see Dean pulling that black t-shirt off over his head. He watched the muscles rippling under the faintly tanned skin of his back, casting all sorts of intriguing shadows in the dull light from the fiture over the kitchen table. His jeans sat just low enough that Sam could see the waistband of his cotton boxer-briefs peeking out - he knew they were black, too. And God, the way they stretched over that ass…

Dean wasn't thinking about any of that as he got undressed. He was still steaming about being shut down by his baby brother - when he was being a bitch, Dean always thought of him as his 'brother' rather than his 'boyfriend'.

They'd been in an actual relationship for nearly six months now, and he was still getting used to the idea, but no matter how much they fought he wouldn't go back to being 'just brothers' for anything. He was in love with Sam - and vice versa - and they both knew it. But although they still fought like family, their make-up strategy had changed rather significantly.

That thought put a little smile on Dean's face as he dropped his Zeppelin shirt onto the bed. When Sam cooled down and decided he wanted to make up… _that_ was going to be fun.

Dean scooped up his clean clothes and his small leather bag of toiletries, that little smile still on his face, but only got halfway to the bathroom before Sam came silently up behind him. He started to wrap his arms around Dean's midsection but the older Winchester immediately pulled away.

"Oh,_ now_ you want to?" Dean sniffed, but let Sam get his arms around his stomach. He placed a gentle kiss on Dean's cheek, hugging his big brother's back against his chest, and Dean let him for a moment. But only for a moment.

"You had your chance, Sammy. That ship has sailed." Dean pulled away and took a couple of steps towards the bathroom, intending to make Sam sweat it out until he'd had a nice, long, relaxing shower. Maybe he'd_ just_ shower, and let Sam take care of the rest…

Sam, however, wasn't about to take no for an answer. He took a few quick steps of his own and threw his arms around Dean's upper body, sweeping one foot out from under him and trying to wrestle him to the floor. The older Winchester let out a yelp of surprise, but kept his feet - just - and reflexively tried to spin away as they stumbled for a few steps. That didn't break the iron grip around his torso, and only brought him face-to-face with Sam.

"Sam!" Dean threw his arms out to shove him away, but accidentally caught him in the face with the heel of one hand. Dean winced, but before he could start to apologise Sam tightened his grip and, with a grunt of effort, literally _threw_ him to the floor.

Dean hit hard, landing face down on the coarse grey sisal almost before he knew what had happened, and it briefly knocked the breath out of him. He let out a noise that was half-groan and half-gasp as his little brother immediately put a knee in his lower back and knelt on him.

"That hurt you know," Sam growled, grinding that knee in a little harder than was strictly necessary. He added one hand between Dean's shoulder blades, just at the base of his neck, and leaned on that too.

"Toughen up, princess," Dean grunted, dinstinctly unsympathetic. "Now what the _hell_-"

"Shhh." Sam grabbed a handful of Dean's short hair and put one hand over his mouth, pushing his cheek down onto the scratchy, dusty-smelling carpet. Dean struggled some more, trying to get out from under his Sasquatch of a baby brother, but Sam's leverage was too good. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Get used to it, Dean. You're going to do what I tell you tonight." Sam smiled, waiting patiently until Dean realised that too and stopped fighting him. The older Winchester let his body go limp and groaned, rolling his eyes.

"You were the one that told me to make some happy Halloween memories," Sam reminded him, quieter, stroking Dean's cheek softly with his thumb as he ran the other hand down his spine and let it rest on one of the Levis' back pockets. Dean realised immediately what he meant, and Sam smiled wider as his big brother groaned again - well, it was more of a whine, really.

It wasn't that Dean had never been on the receiving end before. Neither had been a virgin when they bit the bullet and got together, although the other brother was just about the only one either would bottom for. But while Sam enjoyed being down there, Dean didn't and he could count the number of times he'd done it on one hand. Apparently tonight was going to be another one of those times whether he liked it or not.

His baby brother wasn't giving him a lot of choice right now, but Dean figured he could work his way back up on top before Sam actually sealed the deal - he had before, when Sam had delusions of dominance. So he nodded once, just a little.

The hand disappeared from his mouth and Sam immediately grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him back over, knelt over his hips, and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend. Dean let him, parting his lips to let Sam in - his tongue was purple from the Skittles and Sam could still taste the candy. Dean combed his hands back through Sam's hair, gripping his skull and pulling him in closer.

When Sam broke the kiss for Dean to get his shirt off, a flash of colour caught his eye from the shadows under the bed in front of him. A slow smile spread across his face when he realised what it was - he hadn't intended to go there, really, but this must be a sign from the Universe telling him to go for it…

Sam reached out for the colourful object and Dean craned his neck to see what he was so interested in. He saw Sam's hand disappear under the bed, and come out with a blue & black striped tie. It was Dean's - he'd evidently knocked it out of his duffel while he was self-righteously tearing through it earlier. Now, Sam had a whole different purpose in mind for it.

"What exactly do you think you're doing with that?" Dean asked warily. He'd noticed that evil little smile on Sam's face.

Sam put a hand briefly over his mouth to quieten him. "I'm in control, remember?" he reminded Dean, ever so softly. Dean blinked, but nodded and Sam took his hand away before he leaned over and kissed him again. "I mean, I can use this, or I can use the handcuffs. Those are your choices," he breathed, his lips only millimetres from Dean's.

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, considering that as he looked up at his baby brother. He wasn't used to this. He'd always been the one in control - the one on top - and he liked it that way. Plus, it would be harder to fight his way back up there later if his hands were tied…

Sam saw the hesitation and couldn't help the satisfied little smile that touched the corners of his mouth. It wasn't often he got Dean right out of his comfort zone, and he was going to enjoy it. He didn't really want to hurt his big brother with the handcuffs, but he _was_ going to get tied up - one way or another. As far as Sam was concerned, after that crap he pulled earlier he thoroughly deserved it.

"Okay. Do it." Dean sighed, eventually. Sam's face broke into a grin, and he gave Dean one last, deep kiss before he got to his feet. He hauled Dean up after him and the older Winchester immediately started to reach for the button on his jeans, desperate to relieve the constricting pressure on his rapidly-hardening cock, but Sam slapped his hand away before he could even get close.

"Sam-" Dean started to complain, but Sam gave him a pointed look and he immediately shut his mouth. He groaned and cast a despairing look at the ceiling, starting to wonder exactly what he'd gotten himself into here.

Sam waited until his brother's gaze was back on him before he reached for the fly on his own jeans. Dean had to stand there and watch as he popped the button and pulled down the zipper _painfully_ slowly, shifting his weight the entire time and letting out another frustrated groan when Sam freed his own erection and breathed a (deliberately exaggerated) sigh of relief. Dean could clearly see the outline of it, straining against the dark grey fabric of those boxer briefs, and he chewed unconsciously on his bottom lip as he watched Sam step out of his jeans.

Sam went over to him, pressing his chest against his brother's and running a hand down over Dean's washboard abs, fingers skipping over the ridges of muscle. He rubbed slowly and gently at the hot, hard bulge in the front of his jeans, pressing his lips against Dean's and smiling when he groaned, a low growl in the back of his throat.

Sam picked the tie up off the bed and turned Dean around, pressing his chest to his big brother's back and kissing his neck just where it met his shoulder. He heard Dean's breathing quicken and he kissed harder, sucking a bruise into the smooth, tanned skin. He couldn't help himself and bit down, just gently, smiling when he heard Dean's breath catch in his throat.

Dean let out a strangled little moan as his little brother bit him again, harder this time. He reached back and wound a hand deep into Sam's hair, pulling him closer as he turned his head, searching for another kiss - Sam obliged him, plundering more of that Skittles flavour from his mouth while he took Dean's free hand and brought it up behind his back. Dean gave him the other one voluntarily, disentangling it from Sam's golden brown hair and letting his baby brother hold both at the small of his back.

Sam gave him one final kiss on the cheek before he stepped back and wrapped the tie around both wrists firmly, but not so tight that he cut off the circulation, then tied a secure quick-release knot with the loose ends. He could have it undone in a second, but Dean couldn't get free if he wanted to. And Sam was quite sure he was going to try.

Now that Dean's hands were safely bound at his back, Sam reached a hand around and rubbed gently at the front of his jeans again. Dean moaned and unconsciously ground his ass against Sam, drawing an involuntary little moan from the younger Winchester as the motion caught his cock between his body and Dean's backside. Dean didn't even realise he was doing it - his conscious mind was occupied with Sam's hand stroking his aching hard-on through his jeans and rolling his hips like that was just a reflex at this point.

Sam was quite happy to let him continue doing it for a minute before he finally popped the button on Dean's fly. He let out a sigh of relief and muttered something like "Oh thank Christ" under his breath as Sam slowly pulled the zipper down, tooth by tooth. When he hooked two fingers through Dean's belt loops and finally slid his jeans down, he felt his big brother's whole body relax.

Now that he had Dean stripped down to his underwear, Sam promptly left him standing there while he went over to the coffee table to get the bucket of candy.

Dean watched him, confused, but didn't say a word. He stood there at the foot of the bed with his hands tied behind his back, cheeks slightly flushed and breathing heavily, covered in a glittering sheen of sweat with the outline of his cock clearly visible through his black cotton boxers and a small dark, wet spot just at the tip…

Sam lingered by the coffee table for a moment, making sure to take a good look at the sight in front of him before he went back. God, this whole night was worth it just to have that image in his head.

He sighed, a little smile playing on his lips, and took a second to grab his phone and take a photo. Dean's eyes widened a little but he didn't move as Sam held up the phone to frame the shot.

"Have I told you lately that you're gorgeous?" Sam asked, and as soon as the inevitable smile spread across Dean's face he pressed the shutter. The image didn't do this sight justice, really, but that wasn't the camera's fault. It was just better in real life.

Sam smiled at the captured image, then tossed the phone back onto the couch. "Not gonna show me?" Dean asked, before he could stop himself.

"Not yet. After," Sam told him, setting the candy down on the end of the bed. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Dean's boxers and pulled them down. "You know, I like you naked and tied up. I think we're going to have to do this again," Sam breathed, cosying up to Dean and pressing his lips hard against his brother's in another Skittles-flavoured kiss.

Sam reached down to pull a piece of candy from the bucket, but the first thing he found was liquorice so he dropped it back in and grabbed a red snake instead, putting it between his teeth like Dean had done with the sour worm earlier. Then he wound an arm around his boyfriend's lower back and pulled him in tight.

Dean wordlessly opened his lips a little and Sam pressed his against them. He closed his teeth around the snake as Sam released his grip on it, and the younger Winchester took a second to watch him work it into his mouth without the aid of his bound hands. He made a little show out of drawing it in, oh so slowly, with just his tongue and those silk cushions of lips while Sam's fingers rubbed absently through his short brown hair.

"It's tasty. You should try one," Dean said when he was done, with just a hint of a smile playing on his puffy, well-kissed lips.

"I intend to." Sam suddenly leaned in and kissed him hard, drawing a muffled little cry of surprise from Dean as he licked the cherry taste right out of his brother's mouth.

Dean didn't have a clue what was going on here. He didn't know how he'd wound up with his hands tied behind his back, swapping Halloween candy kisses with his suddenly-dominant baby brother. Sam was a passionate guy, yeah, and he'd be the alpha male in almost any other couple, but he just _didn't_ take control like this. Ever.

That said though, as he stood there pressed up against Sam in one of the hottest kisses of his life, Dean didn't mind in the least.

When Sam broke off the kiss and put a hand on Dean's shoulder to push him down onto his knees, he didn't fight it. He settled back to sit on his heels, knees spread to shoulder-width beneath him on the coarse carpet, and took a couple of deep breaths. A pleasant little thrill went through him when Sam slipped off his boxers and his cock was finally _right there_, hard and flushed and perfect, but it was only then that he realised he had no idea how to do this without his hands.

Dean took just the hot, hard head into his mouth first, closing his lips around the shaft and flicking his tongue across the tip. He felt a hand on the back of his head and pushed forward further, taking in more of Sam's length and running his tongue along the sensitive vein underneath. He heard Sam's breath hitch in his throat and looked up from under his eyelashes, trying to gauge how he was doing.

Sam was looking back down at him, bottom lip caught hard between his teeth. The sight of Dean down on his knees, hands bound at his lower back, those beautiful lips wrapped around his cock… God, he was gorgeous. This was the stuff dreams were made of and the sight of it threatened to make Sam come then and there.

Dean fought back a smile and drew back slowly, pausing to run the tip of his tongue along the slit at the very end, sucking on the smooth head like it was a lollipop. A hot, smooth, slightly salty lollipop.

Sam moaned, low the back of his throat, and that hand on the back of Dean's head started to press harder. He relaxed and went with it, closing his eyes and letting Sam push deeper, past his gag reflex and on into his throat with one easy stroke until his nose was almost pressed against the skin of Sam's pelvis. He had to concentrate on it, because he'd only been able to pull this off a couple of times. Sam was bigger than average, to say the least, and it was hard to deep throat a fucking telephone pole.

Dean swallowed around him, more out of reflex than anything else, and Sam groaned and suddenly thrust forward - once, then again. Dean almost choked, but he didn't stop him. If he could get Sam to come here, now, he might be able to avoid sacrificing his ass for his baby brother's alpha male fantasy…

Dean barely got time to finish that thought before Sam suddenly dragged him to his feet and gave him a long, slow kiss. "I know what you're thinking, and no - your pretty mouth isn't getting you out of this that easily," he murmured, his lips just touching Dean's.

Before he could try and deny it Sam shoved him gently - but firmly - towards the queen-size bed, and it was then that Dean's heart rate started to pick up. Everything he'd done up till now had been easy and pretty painless - even fun. But he knew what was coming next, and the thought didn't thrill him.

Dean tried to spin away and grunted as he pulled hard at his restraints, trying to free his hands before Sam could really get on top, but the younger Winchester wasn't playing nice tonight. He grabbed Dean's upper arms in his vice-like grip again and shoved him down hard on the dark blue bedspread, face first, and he heard the box springs squeak in protest as his cheek ground into the coarse dark cotton. It was about then that Dean realised that if Sam _really_ wanted him on the bottom, there wasn't actually a whole lot he was going to be able to do about it.

"Sam-" Dean started, but his baby brother clamped a hand over his mouth and sat over his hamstrings - not just knelt either side, but _sat _on him. Dean felt something hot and hard against his bare backside, and he sucked in a quick breath and started to try and squirm out from under Sam.

"Toughen up, princess," Sam grunted, getting an iron grip on the back of Dean's neck that was going to leave a bruise and pressing his bound wrists down onto his lower back. Dean was hopelessly pinned to the bed, and he immediately stopped moving - more out of surprise than anything else.

When push came to shove Sam usually backed down, and Dean was surprised at the way he was playing Alpha Male tonight. Surprised, but not worried - not really, anyway. He knew that if he_ really_ didn't want this and genuinely fought to get away, Sam would let him. He wouldn't force his big brother into anything he didn't want.

The question was, _did _he want it…?

Sam waited while Dean considered that, still gripping him tight. Dean didn't enjoy bottoming, as a rule - it hurt too much for his taste, so he'd only done it a handful of times. Sam knew he didn't enjoy being down there and didn't usually push to be on top like this. Both Winchester boys had always just figured that was Dean's role, being that he was the older, more dominant brother. Usually, anyway.

The older Winchester didn't say anything, but after a moment Sam felt him take a deep breath and the tension in him started to slowly ebb away.

A smile spread across Sam's face and he gasped as he felt a little thrill run through him like an electric current: _that _was what he wanted. Dean Winchester, the dictionary definition of 'alpha male', had made a conscious decision to submit - and not to easy stuff like binding his hands, either, but to something they both knew he didn't really enjoy. Although Sam intended to change his mind on that last part. He'd always figured he could, if Dean would just lay still long enough and _let _him.

"You won't regret it," he breathed, smiling, and released the pressure on Dean's neck and back as he sat up. The older Winchester stayed quiet, closing his eyes and laying still, just breathing deeply and listening to Sam rustle around briefly in the nightstand drawer. He heard a condom wrapper tear open, then the plastic _pop _of the top being flicked off their tube of strawberry-flavoured Astroglide, and tried to ignore the way his heart rate spiked.

He could do this. He'd done it before. Sam was pretending to be a hardass, but he was going to be gentle...

A few seconds later Sam leaned over to kiss the back of his neck, rubbing a hand up and down between his shoulder blades. He waited until he felt Dean start to really relax, then ran a slippery finger down between his ass cheeks. A small, breathy moan fell from his lips, so Sam pressed harder - he stroked the small, rosy ring of muscle a few more times before he slipped one finger inside.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, and when he exhaled that first finger was immediately followed by a second. It was a little bit of a tight fit at first, but after a moment he instinctively pushed back against Sam's hand with his hips. Sam smiled as he worked his fingers into that soft, velvety heat, coaxing a series of divine little sighs of pleasure from his big brother.

He ran his left hand slowly over the smooth, pale skin of Dean's backside, taking his time and enjoying it a little - it wasn't often that Sam got to do this, so he took his time. He could stare at Dean's ass all day, never mind this golden opportunity he had to spend some time _playing_ with it. Dean usually preferred his lovers' attention to be focused more towards the equipment in front, which Sam always found to be a bit odd - for the younger Winchester rimming was the next best thing to sex, but Dean hadn't ever really let Sam show him why.

Sam's smile widened as a thought occurred to him. Dean wasn't in any position to give him orders at the moment...

Dean actually let out a disappointed groan when Sam took his fingers back, but he didn't get to dwell on it for long. Sam put both hands palm-down on his ass instead, pushing his hips back down onto the bed, and the next thing Dean knew his baby brother was slowly, sensually licking away every last trace of the fruity lubricant.

Sam heard Dean's breath catch in his throat and kept licking, gently but firmly with only the tip of his tongue, just like you might lick a soft serve ice cream cone. Except Sam had never met an ice cream cone that he enjoyed as much as he was enjoying this - he could hear Dean's strangled little cries of pleasure, and if he weren't tied up and Sam wasn't holding him down, he would have been literally writhing.

Dean wanted to say something like "Oh my God that's good!", or "Don't stop, Sammy!", but he couldn't string together a coherent thought to form the words. He groaned instead, eyes squeezed shut and biting down hard on his lower lip - with his hands tied behind his back, there was nothing else he _could _do.

By the time Sam sat up and grasped him by the hips, Dean was completely blissed-out and absolutely relaxed - he was sprawled out on the bed with a little smile on his lips, eyes closed and taking slow, deep breaths. Sam already had the condom on and the lube applied, and he didn't want to give Dean time to overthink it and tense up again, so he went for it before his big brother even knew what was happening.

Dean's eyes flew open as he registered the pressure, then the sharp, hot pain as his body opened up and Sam slipped in, stretching him wide open. It hurt, and he couldn't stop himself letting out a low groan as he screwed his eyes shut again. Sam saw his hands clench into fists as he pulled at the tie binding them, burying his head in the slightly musty-smelling bedspread and trying to keep taking those deep, slow breaths, but not having a lot of success.

Sam paused for a moment, giving Dean a chance to adjust. He was about halfway in and Dean's body pressed hard all around him, soft and hot and _so_ fucking tight. All he wanted to do was go for it, as hard as he possibly could, but he made himself wait. He was trying not to hurt his brother any more than he had to, because he wanted Dean to _want_ do this again. This part was why he didn't bottom very often, and if Dean had to think Sam was making him do it this time, then so be it. Whatever it took to get a foot in the door.

It wasn't long before Dean started to relax - the pain faded, and knowing it was _Sam_ inside him, filling him like this… just the thought sent a pleasant thrill down his spine. Sex wasn't usually a mental thing for Dean Winchester, but Sam was well and truly in his head.

Dean's heart was already racing when he felt a hand on the back of his neck again, pushing his cheek down onto the bedspread. Another hand pressed down on his lower back just under his left kidney, forcing him to arch his back and raise his ass up just a little. Sam held him down hard, exactly where he wanted him.

Dean clenched his teeth as he started to move, bracing himself for it to hurt like it had every other time they'd tried this. He felt Sam lean in close and blew out a breathy moan as he placed a few long, gentle kisses on the back of his neck, that floppy hair brushing the back of his shoulders.

He was pleasantly surprised to discover that all the attention Sam had been paying to him for the last five minutes - the kind of thing Dean didn't usually sit still for - meant it got better, fast. It started to feel good, even. _Really_ good. He was going to feel this for days - no matter how gentle Sam was being - and the way Sam was holding him down he'd be covered in bruises by the end, but Dean knew he didn't really mean any of that. He meant those soft little kisses.

Dean reached out with one bound hand and found Sam's left wrist, the heel of that hand currently digging into the small of his back. "Sammy," Dean breathed, between thrusts.

"Mmm?" Sam grunted, without interrupting his rhythm.

"Harder."

The next thing Dean knew Sam was literally laying on top of him, almost all of his weight on Dean's back, trapping his hands between them. He gasped, the change in position bringing with it an increase in tempo - Sam grabbed him around the shoulders and drove into him harder now, as deep as he could go.

"Oh God...!" Dean groaned, lifting his hips up off the bed in an effort to push back against him. "Fuck me, Sammy!"

In a fit of possessiveness, Sam growled and clamped his right hand over Dean's mouth, pulling his head back and arching his back like a bow. Dean closed his eyes and let him hold on, Sam's hand muffling his cries of pleasure. He struggled to get enough air through his nose, with Sam laying on him _and_ covering his mouth, but he didn't try to pull away. Dean had never felt this good on the bottom, and he wasn't going to stop this until he had to - until he was fucking passing out, even.

Sam held on until he felt Dean really starting to fight for every breath, his chest heaving beneath him and Dean's hard, rapid breathing on the back of his hand. Only then did he release his grip - just as Dean knew he would - and let him collapse back onto the bed. Dean groaned as Sam leaned down and kissed the hot, flushed skin at the nape of his neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. He grabbed a handful of Dean's hair and pulled his head to the side, then leaned in to kiss him hard on the lips.

Dean moaned again and shifted a little, pushing his hips up off the bed to meet Sam's. He didn't even realise he was doing it - as long as Sam kept driving into him like this, Dean wouldn't notice if a bomb went off outside.

Sam let his hair go to regain that iron grip on Dean's slim hips and went for it - he wasn't going to last much longer, so he went as hard and deep as he possibly could. Dean felt Sam's fingers digging into his waist, pulling him back into each thrust, and Sam watched the muscles in his back working as he lay there, eyes half shut and taking deep, panting breaths that were more like gasps of pleasure, and_ let_ his baby brother fuck his brains out.

Dean didn't have to look at Sam to know when he came. He heard that tell-tale gasp when Sam caught his breath and held it, then those fingers dug into his hips hard enough to bruise and he heard a sudden, low groan before the hard, fast, almost-painful thrusts slowed right down.

Dean let out a long breath of his own as he felt Sam slip out, and smiled as the younger Winchester leaned down close enough that his chest touched Dean's back. There were more soft, slow kisses on the back of his neck, and a big, rough hand rubbed gently at his left side.

Sam tugged at his left flank, turning him onto his back, and he smiled when he saw the red teeth marks on Dean's bottom lip and the pink flush high on his cheeks. He leaned in for one more deep, long kiss, and then climbed up off the bed and reached for the candy bucket they'd knocked onto the floor.

"Awww, _Sammy_…!" Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. Sam was going to leave him hanging while he ate frigging _candy_? That would be a real Halloween horror story.

Sam didn't reply - he came up with a tube of that liquid sour candy, and a smile spread across Dean's face.

"This is your Halloween treat." Sam smiled back, flicking the top open.

He slowly drizzled a thin thread of candy all the way down Dean's torso, from his collarbone to his pelvis, and all over his achingly hard cock. The liquid felt cool on the flushed, hot skin, and Dean shivered a little and unconsciously ran his tongue over his bitten, abused lips. Sam leaned in and kissed them softly, then moved on to clean up the mess he'd just made.

The candy, melted slightly by Dean's body heat, had pooled in the hollow at the base of his throat. Sam slowly ran his tongue over the sensitive skin there, lapping up the liquid sweetness, ending each stroke with a long, slow kiss. Dean closed his eyes and blew out a long, sighing breath that was more of a moan, turning his head slightly to give Sam better access.

Sam smiled and listened to the little keening noises Dean was making as he half-licked, half-sucked the candy up off his hot, salty skin - it reminded Sam vaguely of the salty-sweet flavour of French fries dipped in soft serve ice cream, or Maltesers and popcorn at the movies.

He worked his way slowly down over his big brother's chest, then across the muscles of his stomach and down to the smooth skin of his pelvis, and but then paused. Dean groaned, lifting his head off the bedspread to throw Sam a glare of barely-disguised desperation. His hands were still bound under his lower back, and he couldn't get himself off no matter how much he might love to - he needed Sam to do it for him.

Sam took a moment to enjoy that notion, his lips poised just centimetres from the flushed, smooth head of Dean's achingly hard cock, leaking pre-come all over his tensed stomach.

The older Winchester let out a frustrated groan and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the bed. When Sam eventually untied him, that sneaky little cocktease was going to get _exactly _what was fucking coming to-

Dean gasped and arched his back when Sam finally took his length slowly into his talented mouth. His body relaxed as he felt the wet heat around him, and it didn't take long from there. Sam heard Dean's breathing getting steadily shallower and more irregular, and in the end he barely had time to suck away the last trace of sweet & sour.

Dean tensed again, every muscle in his body going taut as he sucked in a breath and held it. Suddenly Sam's mouth and throat were full of musky saltiness, and Dean let out a low, strangled groan that was half pleasure and half relief. Maybe more relief.

Sam swallowed it all, then laid a soft, sticky kiss on Dean's mouth - it was sweet and sour and a little bit salty all at the same time. Then Dean felt Sam reach under his back and pull the quick release knot.

When the tie fell away from his wrists Dean immediately grabbed him, one hand on his cheek and one hand buried in his tousled brown hair, and pulled him back in for another kiss - harder this time - making sure to suck every last sweet/salty/sour drop off his brother's lips. Thoroughly. And repeatedly.

"So how was it?" Sam asked knowingly, when he flaked out on the bed beside Dean.

"You mean after I got past the sensation of being split in half?" Dean asked, rubbing his wrists. He only had some faint red friction marks to show for it, and they'd probably be gone by morning. He ignored Sam's chuckle and considered that for a second as he stretched out on the bed, crossing his ankles and putting one arm up behind his head. "Look, it hurt like hell for a minute, but after that it was... well... _good_."

Sam just smiled, remembering the way he was moaning. It had certainly sounded pretty good.

"_Really _good, even." Dean conceded, with a little shrug.

"Why don't you do it more often then?" Sam leaned over and licked up a few stray drops of sour candy he could see glittering on Dean's chest.

"I'll revisit that when I try to sit down for breakfast tomorrow," Dean told him, and Sam chuckled again. It was nothing Dean hadn't done to him before, after all. "You may have been alpha dog tonight, but don't get used to it." Dean went on, trying to sound stern. The attempted warning only made Sam smile.

"I thought you were going to wuss out for a second there, when you felt me pressing against you."

Dean sniffed derisively. "As if."

"You thought you could get back on top, huh? All the easy stuff you did before that, you did thinking you were going to wriggle out of it in the end," Sam said. He didn't need Dean to tell him that.

Dean studied him, eyes narrowed as he thought it through. "That's the part you got off on, wasn't it? When you had total control, and I had to _choose_ to submit."

"Mm-hmm." Sam smiled widely.

"You sneaky little bitch."

Sam just grinned. He couldn't deny that. "If you_ really_ didn't want to I would've let you up, you know."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I know. That's why I did it - because you would've stopped if I asked you to," he said, then paused. "Listen up, Sammy, because I'm only going to say this once."

"Mmm?" Sam murmured, letting Dean slide an arm around his shoulders.

"Thanks for pushing me." Dean leaned over and gave him a kiss. "Sometimes it's nice when someone else is driving the bus, you know? It was fun to let you..." He trailed off, the memories bringing a little smile to his lips.

"Fuck your brains out?" Sam supplied, with a little smile of his own.

"Yeah." Dean sighed contentedly. "Plus, I kinda deserved it. I was an asshole before."

"Yeah, you were."

"Maybe I'll let you do it more often." Dean placed a kiss on Sam's temple.

"You should be so lucky." Sam sniffed good-naturedly, and Dean laughed.

"Well, I trust you with my ass when we're working, so why not in bed? If I'm going to bottom for anyone, then it should be you, right?" He hugged Sam in closer and placed another long, soft kiss on his lips. Sam couldn't see it, but his eyes were sparkling - he'd enjoyed his baby brother being in control. More than he was ever going to admit out loud.

"Exactly." Sam cuddled up close to Dean, feeling the heat radiating from him. It was hard work, being the one on the bottom. "And as if I'm going to let anyone else do that to you."

Dean couldn't argue with that. If anyone other than Sam tied his hands behind his back and half-suffocated him, they'd be dead right now.

"You're still going to pay for this," he said. "Fair warning."

"I know," Sam said, but he was smiling. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy that.

* * *

_Yeah, so I felt like some top!Sam for a change. :) This was supposed to be one of those alleged 'ficlets' my muse brings me occasionally - 9000-odd words is not a ficlet, muse! *glares*_

_Anyway - please review and tell me wha__t you thought! (And if you liked it, hit a 'share' button at the top of the page and tell someone!)_

_PS: Thank you for ignoring the small liberties I took with the canon timeline. I know _Heart_ doesn't quite fit into my little Wincesty jigsaw here, but oh we__ll. It made for better angst._

_PPS: And, JSYK, my trebuchet worked beautifully. Many defenceless vegetables were sacrificed a__t the Overlord's altar that day!_


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